No Ship Sherlock
by SASundance
Summary: "You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can't please all of the people all of the time". Great advice. I've decide to see if I can please none of the people all of the time. Warning Crack-fic!
1. Chapter 1 Wash That Man Right Out of my

A/N: "You can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can't please all of the people all of the time". Great advice so I've decide to see if I can please none of the people all of the time. My version of how Gregary Blags might give everyone their moments when Michael Weather leaves after thirteen years. I'll be posting this story – a prologue, plus two chapters every day. And just to be clear, this is sheer unadulterated crack-fic, in case anyone expects there to be a real plot.

For those people who haven't been keeping up with how MW's departure has been covered in the media, this might not make much sense. For those of you who have – this story may still not make a lot of sense. :D Hmm what else…oh not beta'ed and rather rough. The inspiration for the title for this fic came from Frakking Toasters, but for another story and I ended up not using it. Still I think it works for this one too.

Warnings: Is it necessary for me to tell you that this is probably going to offend most of you?

Disclosure: I don't own them and I'm not making any money from this story. It's just for my own twisted amusement.

No Ship Sherlock

Prologue: I'm Gonna Wash that Man Right Out of My Hair

Gregary Blags groaned loudly. He could already smell the cloying scent of perfumes, and cosmetics co-mingling with sweat and various other bodily odours even before he even stepped in the room. It was already making him nauseous and he wished this farce was over and done with already. What a mess!

Ever since that doddering old fool let the cat out of the bag about the imminent departure of Anthony DiNozzo from NCIS, the media had gone cra-cra every time he set foot out in the public eye. Gregary had finally grown weary of all the media speculation and hysteria. He'd decided to take the bull by the horns and front the media horde head on. Hopefully to shut them up for a bit.

Entering the bull pen… um, the lion's den, to the accompaniment of flashing lights, yelling journalists, celebrity reporters and entertainment bloggers, Blags managed to fight his way into the room, feeling like he needed a whip and a chair. Maybe an electric cattle prod too. Darn he'd left his in his trailer on set. Ignoring the absolute hysteria, he focused on making his way to the lectern where the microphone was situated, intent on addressing the madding crowd before skedaddling again to the privacy of his limo which would whisk him back to his mansion somewhere in the Hollywood Hills. Due to stalkers and weirdos even he didn't know exactly were it was.

Ever since the news broke, they were all demanding he reveal details of the departure of one of the 'Fab Four. All screeching like a bunch of monkeys at the zoo. Gregary wondered how long it would be until they'd start chucking their excrement at him when they didn't get the information they wanted and FYI, enough information was never ever enough to satisfy them. The fifth estate was, by its nature, insatiable. Too bad they had such a symbiotic relationship with them.

Taking a deep breath, he waited for the melee to die down so he could speak.

"Thank-you for all coming today. I can't tell you much but I can tell you this – we're taking this situation very seriously and I'm sure that everyone will be pleased with the final outcome. Everyone will be very happy with the ending of a journey. I think you all know that for me it's not about the story; I like to give you all moments and umm crumbs. So I'll just say thank-you. I think that says it all."

As he bowed his head and headed for the exit, ignoring the the shouts and questions from angry media, he was pleased with his performance. Blags sent a text to his close colleague, Hank Marrom telling him he owed him one for shielding him from the ravening crowd.

Now all he had to do was figure out how to get rid of that aggravating Anthony DiNozzo character without setting off a riot. Beats him about how popular that clown DiNozzo was anyway. He wanted to go…good riddance. NCIS didn't need him… theyd be fine without him...seriously fine. The guy was an ungrateful joke after all.

Despite the roar from everyone in the room, as he departed he found himself singing a show tune from South Pacific – I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Out of my Hair and Send Him On his Way.

End Notes:

Yes I know I haven't managed to offend all that many people yet but it's early days. More tomorrow.

BTW, in the immortal words of the novelist Thom E. Gemcity, the characters in this chapter are fictional and any resemblance to individuals, living or dead, is purely coincidental.


	2. Chapter 2: Wave That Man Right Out Of My

A/N: So it's on with the next chapter. Remember this is crack-fic so don't expect it to make sense. Thank-you to everyone who reviewed.

This chapter is not beta'ed – sorry for any glaring errors.

Warning: This fic has been written to offend as many people as possible. Read it at your own risk :D

Chapter 1: I'm Gonna Wave That Man Right Out of My Arms

Anthony DiNozzo Junior, Tony to his friends, was in the bullpen on his last day at NCIS; packing up his stuff for the last time. He'd just surrendered his trusty service weapon to the armoury, feeling like he was farewelling and old friend. Now all that was left was to collect up the last of his things. The end of an era.

He picked up his Mighty Mouse stapler and was looking at it fondly, as Leroy Jethro Gibbs strode up and stopped in front of what had been his desk for the last fifteen years. Well it had been his desk, except for four months when he'd lead the team and another four months when he'd been agent afloat aboard the USS Reagan and the Sea Hawk.

"So ya all done, DiNozzo?"

"Nearly, Gibbs. Just have a few things left to pack up, then I'm outta here."

"Good cuz now we're free to be a couple, Sweetheart." Gibbs grabbed him and attempted to conduct an intensely personal reconnaissance of his lips and tonsils.

Pushing him away, Tony looked at Gibbs in shock. "What the Hell was that? And Sweetheart…really c'mon!"

"Don't be coy, Honey-buns. No need to hide our love now you don't work here. You can be the needy sub to my domineering dom now, just like you've always dreamed of."

"Ah no…I haven't. For a start I'm not into guys, Gibbs. Not that I have a problem if you are, of course. After three-exes, guys might well be the way to go. On the other hand, Jethro, when they swing a sporting implement at you for being a bastard, they're much more likely to cave your head in. Maybe you need to rethink that plan."

"That's not what Senior says about you. You're just in denial." Gibbs taunted, totally ignoring the comments about his sporty, but weak ex-wives extra curricula activities.

"I am? Are you sure about that? Cuz I could have sworn I really, really liked women, Jethro. Wendy, Paula, Jeanne, E.J., Zoe – I thought they had ovaries. My Bad!"

"Trust me, you're as camp as a row of tents and you want my body bad, Sweet Boy. Why else would you spend 15 years working for me, if it wasn't so you could follow along behind me to check out my extremely hot ass?"

"Honestly, I have no idea why I stayed here so long, I reckon it was the brain damage from all the blows to my head I've sustained over the years. It must have taken away my desire for advancement. I swear it wasn't your butt that kept me around cuz to be blunt, Puddin-Pie, it just ain't all that hot. Figure all the coffee and bourbon caught up with it over the years. Starting to show you, age, Jethro."

"Don't be an insolent whelp! And what about these?" Jethro head slapped him enthusiastically. "Don't pretend ya don't like it when I hit ya. Told everyone that my head slapping you was a sign of affection."

"Yeah I did say that, I guess. Well it might be a sign of affection. Just didn't say who for. FYI it's sure not for me."

Gibbs looked confused, initially, before grasping the innuendo. So he reached across and head slapped DiNozzo again, before yelling, "On your knees, Slave. You'll pay dearly for that disrespect later on when I have you chained to my bed but now you can su…"

The phone rang, interrupting what he was about to say, to Tony's eternal undying gratitude to whoever had picked that moment to interrupt – and probably for everyone else in the bull pen, although it was pretty deserted, actually.

"Gibbs," he barked into his old style flip-phone.

Tony was amazed that after so many years that thing even worked any more, especially with the way Gibbs often threw it down when pissed off.

Gibbs didn't look happy with the person on the other end of the phone. "Fine. Ducky. I'll be right there," he ground out irritably, swaggering into the elevator, yelling over his shoulder at him in an authoritarian tone, loud enough for everyone to hear to his horror. "Hold that thought, Sweetie-Pie-Honey-Buns. I'm going to take you home and turn you into a pile of goo when I fu…" before the elevator door mercifully closed on him mid rant.

Tony stared after the man who has been treating him like shit for nigh on 15 years and even worse, if that was possible, for the last 12 months, wondering if someone had drugged him. Maybe he imagined the whole freako- bizarro conversation just now; it was a fairly emotional time - leaving. Shrugging, he went back to packing up his things. It looked as if he was getting out of here at the right time.

Picking up his spare set of clothes that he always kept in his filing cabinet, the elevator dinged and he looked up, hoping Gibbs hadn't returned already or he'd have to cuff him to his desk and gag him. The mood he was in, he'd probably like it! However, it wasn't his former boss who emerged from the elevator – praise the gods! Instead it was a brown haired woman who stepped out of the elevator and into the bullpen.

Looking at him folding a pair of boxer briefs neatly before packing them away in his backpack, she addressed him with a phrase he hadn't heard in a very long time. "You're such a pig, DiNozzo. As if we want to see your underwear, and besides, you strike me as more of a commando type of guy."

"Caitlyn Todd…is that you? You're alive? No. No it can't be. You're meant to be dead! I saw your dead body," Tony responded, shocked to his core. Luckily he didn't blurt out that he ended up her brain matter all over his face. That wouldn't be a cool thing to share with Cate's… what? Was she a doppelganger or even a ghost?Most likely, knowing Cate she was a vampire.

"Not Todd, she's dead. And you better not have ogled my naked body, you pig! My name is Maura Isles and now that you're leaving NCIS, you're free to come to Boston to be my love slave - just as we always planned."

"Excuse me? I don't even know. I know nothing about you, Maura Isle. I don't believe I've ever met you, so why the devil would I move to Boston to be with you?" He demanded, peeved at her outrageous claim.

"I'm a Medical Examiner. The press nicknamed me the 'Queen of the Dead'. And you're coming back with me to be my sex slave because we're meant to be together. We're star crossed lovers and we were meant to have a baby together.

"Plus, I need someone to look after my pet iguana, Eugenia, while I'm at work in the morgue." She pointed at the clothes he was compulsively folding, "And... you won't be needing any of those, since I seem to remember that you like going au naturel." She leered at him, lasciviously.

"How the hell would you know what I do and don't like to do, Lady, and for your information, I don't like reptiles. They're creepy and almost as bad as you vampires. And I'm not your freakin sex slave."

The brown-eyed woman, who looked like a dead ringer for his former um…dead partner, Caitlyn Todd or that actress Shannon Doherty with a dye job, jabbed him in the solar plexus with her pointy elbow, leaving him gasping for breath like a fish flopping around on land."

"Don't be a chauvinist pig, Tony. Finish packing your gear and we can leave ASAP." Tony watched as her phone rang and she nodded, speaking softly. Hanging up she smirked at him.

"Finish up and then when I come back we'll go." She informed him bossily. "I just have to pop down to Autopsy and speak to Ducky about something for a moment."

"You know Ducky?"

"Of course I do. As if I'd make up something like that. I don't lie, unlike some people who shall remain nameless," she accused, glaring at him. "He did my autopsy…we know each other…well."

"He did your autopsy? I knew it was you, Cate!"

"Don't be ridiculous, DiNozzo. You're such a dumb jock, just like I told my sister, Rachel. I said he did an autopsy, jerk. He's a medical examiner; you know…like me." She snarked him before she took to the stairs heading down to Autopsy.

Tony stared after her, shaking his head, wondering if there was some sort of hallucinogenic in the coffee.

Maybe he could set 'Maura' up with Gibbs since he always thought they had the hots for one another and the diversion would let him get out of here unmolested and his modesty intact.

As he picked up his American Pie mug he considered if he wanted to take it with him. McGee had always coveted it and he contemplated giving it to him as a parting gift.

Just at that moment Timothy McGee sauntered into the bull pen with a dramatic sigh as he caught sight of Tony. "Good… you haven't left yet."

Tony eyed his former probie and smiled tightly. "McJust-In-Time! Thank god you're here. I think there's something in the water. It's making people act crazy. They're insisting I'm their sex slave and while on one level it's a little bit flattering, it's 99.9 percent mostly creepy. Ya know?"

McGee pulled out his Sig Saur and approached Tony. "Who's trying to make you their sex slave?" he yelled at him, in a jealous fury. "I'll kill anyone if they touch you. You are mine, DiNozzo! Don't you ever forget that"

Tony stared back at him in confusion. Okay, so he decided not to give McGee his American Pie mug after all, since the man was obviously going to be taking a long trip to the funny farm – he was seriously deranged too. The PTB at the loony bin would undoubtedly confiscate the mug, since they'd deem it as being too dangerous for him to keep in his nice safe padded room.

Speaking slowly, he approached him very cautiously. Addressing his ex-partner like one would a fractious child, he requested, "Tim, why don't you give me the gun, dude? There isn't anyone here but me and we don't want your gun going off and hurting someone, cuz it would most likely be me."

"But now that you're leaving, we're free to be together because we love each other so much and you want to my sex slave. I can't let someone else steal you away after all these years. I have to protect you because you're a needy little sub," McGee whined sulkily, waving his weapon around wildly while people took cover under desks.

"Woa Probie, what have you been sniffing? Elf Lord glue?" he quipped, hoping to talk him down and get his gun.

Seeing McGee's stubborn expression Tony sighed. "We aren't in love, you big doofus. You're with Wheels, remember? You're crazy about her. Besides, if we were together and I'm saying it would be a big 'if', since I don't swing that way, then I wouldn't be the submissive in the relationship - if you catch my drift."

Seeing the befuddled expression on McCrazy's face he elucidated. "Let's just say that our little Goth lab rat was pretty forthcoming about your sex life when you two were sharing the coffin."

"She told you?" He looked chagrined.

"Ages ago, McSubby. Mind you, Wheels was a dead give away. She's not exactly a shrinking violet either, Probie. But no judgement! Now give me your gun."

"No you're wrong. I'm madly in love with you, have been for years and years and I'm a BAMF dom! Now you're leaving we don't have to pretend anymore."

"McDon't- Be-Delusional, you're not in love with me. Most of the time you can't even stand me. Not to mention I'm not gay…except, I did mention it, didn't I? My bad... and for your information, neither are you."

"Yeah I know. I was pretty surprised myself but the boss explained it all to me and I realised that I'd been living in denial all this time. In fact, all of my passive aggressive snarks about you were just a very clever cover to hide the fact I'm bent and have the hots for my ssu…ssuup…"

"Your superior McGee…is that what you can't spit out? And what boss told you that shit? Surely not Gibbs?" Tony couldn't believe that the former Marine would convince Tim of such crap trap…but then again, he was acting pretty hinky earlier on. What with trying to get Tony to perform lewd acts right here in the bull pen. Perhaps it was some ginormous prank."

"No, not Gibbs…the boss."

Tony frowned. "Director Vance told you that you're gay? That I'm gay?"

"And you are my sex slave…never forget that, Slave. But no, not Vance. The boss."

"Why would SecNav tell you something crazy like that? Think about it, McGee. It's crazy!"

"It's not crazy, we're finally going to be together and it wasn't SecNav, it was Gregary Blags who explained it all so it made perfect sense. He called it his McNozzo Moment."

Deciding that Tim was clearly as delusional as everyone else around here, he figured the best course of action was to send him down to Ducky and Palmer. Sure they were MEs but they were also doctors...weren't they? Maybe they could figure out what was going on with him, with 'them'.

"Okay, well that makes sense I guess." Tony decided to go along with his delusion, as he gently took the Sig out of McGee's left hand and absentmindedly slipped in it into the waistband of his trousers, checking the safety catch was on of course. The last thing he need to do was to shoot himself in the ass.

"But hey, Tim. I forgot. Ducky needs you to go down to Autopsy… something about a case."

McGee glared at him for a moment. "Don't go anywhere, Slave. I'll be right back," he ordered, before heading down to Autopsy in the elevator.

Tony rubbed his eyes, feeling a tension headache coming on. Could this be some terrorist plot with some weird poison and who the hell was Gregary Blags, anyway? Probably some character in one of Tim's novels, he decided – after all what sort of name was Gregary Blags?

Right now he decided the best thing he could do was finish up his packing as quickly as possible and slip out of Dodge before Gibbs, Maura or McGee returned and decided to fight over him. That would be super mortifying!

He made his way back to his former desk and picked up his silver letter opener shaped like a dagger, smiling a little as he remembering how Ziva David had always coveted the sterling silver office implement. The elevator pinged and this time a stunning brunette stepped out of Gibbs' 'office.'

Staring at the woman who was dressed somewhat inappropriately for it to be considered as business -casual, she was clad from head to toes in black leather…tight black leather, and carrying a riding crop. He realised she looked remarkably like that hot Israeli actress, Ayelet Zurer. She'd starred alongside Tom Hanks and Ewan McGregor in Angels and Demons – a so-so movie, he'd thought, but a hot, hot actress. Tony watched as she strutted sensuously towards him, grabbing his tie and pulling him towards her. She locked lips with him in a clinch that had everyone in the vicinity cheering wildly, foot stomping or catcalling boorishly.

Putting some distance between them as he pushed her away with the heel of his hand, he tried to marshal his thoughts. This day was too weird. "Can I help you, Miss?"

"Come on Tony, now that you're leaving NCIS you can return to Israel with me and be my sex slave, just as you've always fantasised. Our love was destined to be. When we get back home you can take up your rightful position on your knees and lick my toes."

Tony felt his jaw drop. This had to be a dream…no a nightmare!

"Excuse me Miss, do I know you?"

"Don't act dumb with me Tony. I'm your one true love – we were star- crossed lovers from the day we met over Cate cold stiff body, but tragically, Rule 12 was always stopping us from declaring our love for each other. But that's all changed because I've come back to claim you." She conjured a collar and leash seemingly out of thin air.

Tony backed up in alarm. Perhaps it was him that was going crazy and needed a stay at a nice safe sanatorium. "Who the hell are you, Lady? I've never worked with you."

"Don't be ridiculous, my Hairy Little Ass. I'm Ziva David. I know we haven't seen each other for three years, but before that we worked together for eight years. Surely you recognise me."

"Of course I can recognise Ziva David, and you're NOT her, Lady. You use contractions for one thing and she called me Hairy Little Butt.

"Hairy Little Butt/ Hairy Little Ass… potato/tomato."

When he just glared at her, arms crossed, his body language telegraphing his disbelief she threw up her hands before cussing roundly in Hebrew.

"I told him you would notice."

"Told who?"

"Gregary Blags. He kept saying he needed one last 'TIVA Moment' and that DiNozzo was as dumb as a box of rocks and you'd never notice the switch as long as I had breasts and a pulse."

He stared at her for several moments as if she had two heads before deciding that the stand-in, like 'Real Ziva' was probably crazy as a loon and it was wise to keep out of her way.

"I'm going to the head, who-ever-the-hell-you-are. You better be gone by the time I get back or I'm calling security." Tony threatened as he backed away, too freaked out to turn his back on the crazy dominatrix with the riding crop. "Oh and FYI, crazy-lady-in-leather, the Easter Bunny was about as real as any TIVA Moments, Sweetheart! You can tell your Greggy Bags that," he quipped cynically before disappearing into the haven of the men's' head.

The fake Ziva watched in disgust as the tall, hot guy literally ran away from her. That had not gone to plan – she'd been hired to play tonsil hockey with him and steam up the screen. Scowling, she spied Gregary Blags standing off in a dark corner talking to some old codgers, so the Ziva wannabe strode over and accosted him.

Drilling him with her pointer finger into his chest, she attacked him verbally. "You SAID he'd never notice the substitution. Well guess what…HE NOTICED." She then proceeded to tell him off in what he guessed was Hebrew and wasn't exactly complimentary to him or to his mother. Finally switching back to English she threatened. "I still want my performance fees."

Blags cussed right back at her, using language that would make a sailor blush before turning to his companion. "This is all your fault, Hanne Bransen! You made TIVA into a behemoth the size of Texas, taunting and teasing fans where it never existed and whipped the zealots up into rabid, hysterical lunatics for eight freakin years. You told this would work, asshole. This is a debacle."

"I never said Tony wouldn't notice, dumbass! That's all on you. I said for her to use the Return to Eden* plot contrivance with him. She was supposed to tell him she had to have plastic surgery in Israel because she was pushed out of a boat and horrifically attacked by crocodiles." Bransen shook his head in disgust, chugging down half a bottle of his favourite Fosters beer. What a galah!

Blags looked longingly at the beer, considering swiping it but he was still working. "Oops. I must have zoned out and missed that bit. So what do we do now?"

"Just get a Tony lookalike. As long as you keep the shots long, blur the lense or go for ultra-close close-ups for the kissing scene, they'll never notice. If you tell 'em it's a 'TIVA Moment' they'll believe it. Trust me, mate – I can create a 'TIVA' moment out of nothing."

Gregary Blags looked at his other colleague, Hank Marrom. "What do you think, Hank?"

"Ah…I'm having trouble figuring out about the case of the week and the story arc – cuz how are we going to bring in the replacements before DiNozzo goes."

Bransen rolled his eyes as he chugged the rest of his Fosters. "What plot? Evil nemesis swears revenge on L.J. Gibbs and he triumphs after handing out rough justice. Blah, blah, woof, woof! Didn't you get the memo he sent out?" He gestured at Blags. "How it's been since the Reynosa arc. Just gotta change a few names, kill a few fav reoccurring characters, stir, shake and you're good to go."

Marrom smiled in relief. "Oh okay, I thought that was a memo from last year. Sounds good. Just don't forget to make L.J. dark. None of this fluffy redemption crap. He's gotta be a BAMF!"

Gregary Blags nodded patronisingly, not bothering to explain to him yet again that it WAS the same memo from last year…and the one before that...and the one before that. At NCIS they believed in recycling.

"It's so not about the plot, Hank. I want to give the punters 'Their Moments' so they all go away happy, especial DiNozzo's fans – bless them. It's my signature and now everyone's gonna be happy as a pig in mud. Don't worry about the replacements. Got it covered!"

Yelling loudly to his PA, Gregary ordered, "Hey Babe, make sure you have Abby Tweet pics of Tony's replacement with fangirl squeals about how 'smokin red hot' he is.

"Oh and make sure he ain't wearing a shirt!" he instructed.

Bransen added his two cents worth, "By the way, make sure Abby's wearing a micro-mini when she tweets it and squees about how much she loves Tony!"

Sotto voce he made a discreet call to a minion. "Have someone tweet Tony that he's always welcome to come across to LA," he ordered, his eyes gleaming at pulling off such an audacious coup. Oh and don't forget to congratulate him for such a magnificent achievement, either."

Meanwhile Gregary looked across at Hank. "See? Everything's under control." Smiling he started to sing, "I'm goona wave that man right out of my arms and send him on his way."

End Notes:

1\. *Return to Eden was an eighties Australian mini -series.

2\. So I written the TIBBS, TATE, McNOZZO and TIVAS Moments in this chapter and surely managed to displease all four ships I trust. More offensive crack-fic coming up in the final chapter tomorrow.

3\. Just giving a plug for my crossover parody Serieux Part 2. I've just posted a chapter that contains a tribute to Tony, who Gibbs once labelled the best young agents he'd worked with and Leon told the Admiral from the Joint Chief of Staff that he was one of his best agents. Now the spin is on, to play down his contribution. So I decided that as he won't get a fitting tribute to his skills on this week's season finale, it was up to fanfic authors. My contribution is Chapter Three of Very Special Competent Agent Tony in Serieux (part 2). Check it out and let me know what you think. What would you have added?

4\. What do you think the odds are that Gibbs ends up with a red-haired surogate daughter if/when they kill off Fornell tomorrow?


	3. Chapter 3: Push Him Out, Fly Him Out and

A/N Thanks to people who have been reviewing and faving. The site has been playing up - my last chapter posted didn't go to the top of the list so people who don't follow wouldn't have realised there was a new chapter up. Hopefully it is all fixed now. This was supposed to be posted much earlier but I had issues. Thee are spoilers for the finale in my end notes so if you haven't seen it and don't want to be spoiled, don't read it.

This isn't beta'ed so it is a bit rough. I also considered splitting it but honestly, I just want to get it out of the road and return to my WIPs. So as Tony DiNozzo would say...it is what it is.

Warnings: I've been told I need to include a warning not to consume liquids while reading this piece, or probably eat either. As previously, I'm sure that parts of this will offend people...I can only hope. :D

Chapter 2 Push Him Out, Fly Him Out and Send Him On His Way

Tony backed his way into the men's head and heaved a sigh of relief. The place was empty thank goodness. Okay so he'd come in here to get away from the Ziva-Impersonator but he figured he might as well empty his bladder while he was here. One last pee for old time sake… he got himself situated, and let go. Standing with his fly at half-mast he sniggered.

This was one more piece of proof that the woman who had accosted him outside was a fake and hadn't done her homework. The real Ziva would have come barrelling in here, trying to catch him with his pants down, so to speak. For some reason she'd never observed the social niceties - one of which was that females don't barge into men's toilets when guys have their dicks in their hands. Tony often wondered if it was just a Ziva-ism or did Mossad have a special class for all their operatives in how to try to catch males at their most vulnerable.

Deciding that he couldn't get out of the office quickly enough, he wondered if someone was pumping pheromones through the air-con system. Hoping to get out of here ASAP he washed his hands and set foot outside the head, only to be accosted by a screaming banshee, who promptly gabbed him in a vice like bear hug.

Initially he was inclined to try one of the Marine or Mossad moves he'd learnt over the years, before realising that it was just Abby Sciuto.

"Abby…can't…breathe," he managed to gasp out as he struggled out of her clinch.

"Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony."

"Abby. STOP!" He bellowed at her watching her bouncing up and down on her platform boots, agitatedly.

"But Bossman just told me why you're leaving." She punched him on the bicep. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to have gender reassignment surgery and get your boy-bits bobbed, so you and I can be together. That's so cool and you get to keep your name and be Toni with an 'i'. You'll be a really pretty girl, Toni; you have gorgeous eyes and long eyelashes and…"

"Abbs, I'm not having gender reassignment surgery," he declared angrily and he subconsciously reached down and shielded his boy-bits… ah his man-bits. "Why the hell would Gibbs tell you such a bunch of bullshit, especially since not half an hour ago he was trying to claim me as his sex slave. I think you're all losing your marbles."

"Gibbs wants to steal you away from me? I'll kill him if he touches you; I know how to do and not leave behind a trace. And why do you think that I heard about your MOAS from Gibbs."

"Because, you said the Bossman told you. You call Gibbs the Bossman. That's probably why!"

"Well yeah but this was the Big Kahuna Bossman…not the Silver Fox Bossman, silly boy."

"So Director Vance told you this piece of fiction, Abbs?"

"Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony. You are so funny. No the Big Kahuna Bossman told me…you know…God."

Tony with a 'y' stared at her, starting to think the whole of NCIS was losing the plot. "God spoke to you, Abby? As in paternal dude with a flowing beard, flowing robe and sandals, who built the world in seven days - that God?"

Time to get some help for Abby. Religious Mania or Schizophrenia, whatever it was it was serious.

Rolling her eyes and punching him in the bicep again (he was definitely gonna have a bruise there) she snorted. "No bigger, as in Gregary Blags that replaced Former God - Hanne Bransen and gets to boss all of us round, you silly. And by the way God's not a dude, God is a dudette and she doesn't wear sandals, she wears Doc Martens."

Steering Abby back towards the bull pen so he could send Ducky an urgent SOS, he ran smack bang into Ellie Bishop with a cupcake. Smiling in delight at finding him, she thrust the rich looking piece of confectionary at Tony.

"Here Tony, this is for you."

"That's sweet of you Probish; a leaving cupcake." He grinned at the eccentric former NSA analyst and now NCIS agent. Truth to tell he was a bit worried about leaving her. Up until now she seemed to be a very smart and capable individual.

This last year though she'd shown a disturbing trend of rushing off without back-up to save the day. Tony is worried that she might have contracted Lonewolfus Jethrogibbsius Savouritis, a potentially fatal malady. Symptoms include delusions of: grandeur, invincibility, immortality, arrogance, plus episodes of extreme narcissism and anti-social seclusion and finally, an inability to remain married.

Bishop had so much potential, she was different from the previous two female agents. They seemed to think that being strong female agents meant scarfing down testosterone by the bucket load and emulating all the worst male traits of bullying, posturing, acting without thinking and beating the crap out of everyone with testicles. She'd been different, smarter. Tony had thought she'd turn out to be an agent like Cassie Yates – smart, sassy, capable of holding her own against the male agents without resorting to adopting their worst qualities.

Maybe if he asked Yates nicely she'd mentor Probish; the baby probie could do worse for mentors. Smiling back at him, she reminded his of a cute little puppy and he couldn't help reaching out and tweaking her ponytail.

"No Tony, it's not a leaving cupcake. It's our wedding cupcake. Now you're leaving, we don't have to pretend anymore. No more Rule 12, no more worrying about a subordinate being with her direct supervisor. Let's steal away right now and get married."

WHACK! Abby bitch slapped her. Damn it – he'd forgotten about Abbs. He'd been going to call Ducky, ASAP.

"Back off, you…you… hussy. Toni's mine – after she gets her gender reassignment surgery. I've been waiting 15 years for her to find herself and I'm not giving her up."

Tony grabbed the Goth around the waist and picked her up before she could get into a real skirmish with Bishop.

"Abby I'm not turning into Toni with am 'i' no matter what your Big Kahuna Bossman told you," he yelled at her, as he manhandled her back to his former workspace, dumping her in his chair.

Turning to Ellie he stared at her. "And Probish, there is no you and I. We are not 'together' and we are definitely not getting married – capisce? I think someone poisoned you all with so weird psychotropic hallucinogenic crap," he mused out loud. "I think this Gregory Balls character you all keep yammering about is a definite person of interest."

"Gregary Blags," Bishop and Sciuto chorused in unison before scowling at each other across the bull pen.

Tony rolled his eyes, wondering about the possibility of mass psychosis. "Ellie, wait for me here," he ordered her as he dragged the Goth to her feet and made sure she didn't make eye contact with Ellie.

Arriving in Autopsy he suddenly remembered that 'Maura' and Gibbs had headed down to Autopsy, plus he'd sent McGee on a wild goose chase to find Ducky too. Wow this could get tricky. Entering Ducky's domain, he was relieved to find it empty…well not exactly empty. Ducky and Palmer were, as Dr Mallard would say, 'having a spot of tea.'

Spying them as they entered, Ducky beamed welcomingly. "Ah Abby and Anthony. You're just in time. Oh my…Mr Palmer, what are you doing?"

Jimmy had crossed the floor, snatched Abby away from Tony and was shaking her, much like a terrier would shake a rat.

"You can't have DiNozzo, he's mine. Now that he's leaving we can finally express our love for each other and some old hag pretending to be a little girl with silly pigtails is not going to get in my way."

Ducky looked at his long-time assistant with a mixture of amazement and consternation that Tony promptly labelled as 'consternazement' before the usually mild-mannered ME snapped into military mode and yelled. "Mr Palmer. Get a grip! You have a wife and child, now unhand Abigail and go and inventory our van, STAT!"

Palmer glared at Ducky obdurately for a moment, planting his feet, letting go of Abby but grabbing Tony instead. "I don't care. Tony's my soulmate – he understands about my love of shoes. He won't make fun of my fetish like the rest of you."

"Oh good grief!" Ducky responded when Tony seemed, quite unusually, to be speechless. "Get hold of yourself, Man." He grabbed the lapels of Jimmy's lab coat and started shaking him vigorously.

Tony suddenly got with the program and dragged Abby into Ducky's small office, remembering one of his brief flings whose pack of squabbling mutts were constantly fighting. He recalled the technique she'd used to separate them, before sending them off to separate rooms, glad that it wasn't going to be necessary to use it in this particular situation. Finally, Ducky entered the office wearing a pained expression.

"Oh my! What was that?"

Tony proceeded to explain, only to be constantly interrupted by Abby spitting venomous invectives whenever he mentioned one of her rivals. Winking at Tony, Ducky addressed the Goth seriously.

"Abby, I think that Anthony is looking a little peaky, so I'm going to draw some blood and ask you to test it, immediately. Can you do that for me? We wouldn't want anything to stand in the way of his little reassignment surgery now, would we?"

Abby looked ecstatic and Tony wasn't sure if it was because Ducky was going along with her delusion or because she was going to get her hands on his blood. Either way, it was just wrong!

Bouncing up and down like a demented Goth energiser bunny she screeched excitedly, "Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky…"

The aforementioned individual clapped his hand over her mouth to stop the flow. "Really Abigail. A simple 'Yes Ducky' would suffice. Can you run the test; nod your head if the answer is affirmative." He kept his hand over her mouth, fearful of a further burst of verbal diarrhoea.

Abby nodded violently, her head bobbing up and down violently like a bobble doll and Tony and Ducky winced, wondering about the state of her brain inside her skull.

As Ducky started to get his equipment out to draw blood, Tony opened his mouth to protest forcefully given his aversion to needles. He knew that Ducky was doing it to divert her attention and send her off to her babies, but he hated needles. "Ah um…Ducky, couldn't we test my pee instead my blood."

"Capitol idea, Anthony. Much can be discovered from a humble urinalysis." Digging into one of his desk drawers he tossed Tony a specimen jar. "I believe you know what to do with this?" he joked with another wink.

After he'd made a deposit and Abby had been sent on her way, Ducky regarded Tony seriously. "Now Anthony, do sit down and have one last cuppa with an old medical examiner while we discuss this without the dramas. Are you sure there was no embellishment of the situation on your part?

"Yes, yes I know that Mr Palmer and Abigail were carrying like lunatics but are you sure there wasn't some hyperbole to what you described? This isn't some elaborate leaving prank, is it?"

Tony glared, tempted to growl at him since his last nerve was frayed, but he had to admit that it did sound totally bizarre. Especially since as a trained investigator he'd be questioning it too.

"Gee, let's see, Ducky. Gibbs called me sweetheart, honey-buns, sweetie-pie, sweet boy. Informed me I was gay, that I spent 15 years working for him to ogle his ass, that I was in love with him, wanted to be his sex slave. What else? Oh yeah, molested my tonsils, was about to demand that I perform a lewd act on him in the bull pen. That's the highlights."

"Oh my goodness!" Ducky exclaimed. "That's definitely most peculiar – are we sure that it was really Gibbs?"

"Well he sure head slapped like him, but I know – freakazoid doesn't even begin to cover it! Then there is Fake-Ziva who wanted me to go back to Israel with her because I was her sex slave. A medical examiner, Maura Isles, who looks and acts spookily like Caitlyn Todd but insists she's not, who informed me I'm going back to Boston with her to be – guess what? Yep… good guess. Her sex slave who, FYI I won't need any clothes and I also get to play nanny to her pet iguana.

Plus, you saw Abbs and Palmer, so I don't have to go there. Probish who gave me a cupcake and informed me it was our wedding cake and last but not least, McGee. He insists that we've been hiding our love for the last dozen years because of fraternisation regs and rule 12. Swears that I'm his sex slave…"

He looked across at Ducky who started chuckling helplessly. "Oh my, I think Timothy must be reading his own Deep Six books again." Sobering suddenly, he asked, "I wonder if this is some sort of mass hysteria or mass hypnosis.

He clasped him hands in deep thought, and steepled his pointer fingers, resting them against his nose in concentration. "I remember attending a fascinating conference on Jungian psychotherapy and National Security issues, several years again in 1976. It posited that mass hypnosis or brainwashing might be used to affect our security forces and agencies. This is both deeply perturbing and bizarrely fascinating at the same time, Anthony."

"Absolutely absorbing, Ducky." Tony replied ironically. "The question is, what do we do?"

~o0o~

Tony returned to the bull pen to collect his gear. Ducky had been counselled him that because of the cat fights that seemed to erupt when he was in close proximity to more than one of his team mates at a time, he should depart, as quickly and quietly as possible. Tony had shrugged; it was fine with him.

As he exited the elevator, he noticed a brunette guy with green eyes that looked a bit like him locked lips with the fake Ziva. When someone yelled cut, he shrugged again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Although he admitted it was strange, it wasn't the oddest thing to happen today.

Perhaps they were shooting another recruitment campaign again.

Tony noticed activity at the back of the bull pen. A bunch of people, including a camera guy and someone who looked like they were a sound recordist. There was a guy in a T-shirt with E.P. on the front and Hank Morram printed on the back who looked incredibly familiar. Another guy with Former God on his T-shirt and printed on the back - Hanne Bransen who was chugging down Fosters beer like it was going out of style. Tony was looking forward to going home, kicking back and sinking a few himself. It had been one of those days.

And finally the third guy had GOD, Bossman, Head Kahuna on the front of his T-Shirt and printed on the back was the name Gregary Blags. So he was real, after all. He was the one that was going around telling people he was gay, transitioning, or denying love because of Rule 12. While he was tempted to arrest the jerk, he wasn't an NCIS agent any more so he called Ducky since he seemed to be the only one that was acting normal.

He gave him a sit rep and Ducky promised to come straight up and take care of it ASAP.

~000~

Meanwhile Morram, Bransen and Blags were conferring animatedly.

"Okay so we've got the 'Tibbs Moment', the 'Tate Moment', the McNozzo Moment', the 'TIVA Moment', thanks to Hanne. Good call Buddy, but are ya sure the fans will believe it?" Blags asked, still a bit dubious.

"No prob, Bob. They've believed for years that a Mossad officer could arrest Americans and interrogate them while working at a federal agency. As for Tiva, even when she treated him like shit and threatened him with a gun and told him he made her feel dirty when she talked to him, they still believed that they were star crossed lovers. No worries, Mate! Bob's your uncle, She'll be right!"

"Okay, if you say so. You're the expert on Tiva." Blags conceded reluctantly.

"So what other Moments do we have, Gregary?" Hank enquired.

"Well we have our "Tabby Moment" that will keep all the transgender fans happy as well as the Tabby shippers. So that one ticks double the boxes. Let's see, we have the 'DiNishop Moment'. Personally I thought the wedding cupcake was cute and we had the 'Jiny Moment with Tony and Jimmy."

"Great, so that's it? We're done?" Morram crowed exultantly.

"Not quite, I have a few more Moments and then we're done"

At that moment Ducky appeared in the bull ring and approached Tony.

I thought you told us that you'd decided not to have an "DiNallard Moment', Grezza," Bransen observed.

"I did. I focused grouped it and decided it was too squick."

Hank smirked. "He refused to do it, didn't he?"

Blags shook his head. "Nah, I didn't ask. Too icky."

"So what's he doing, then?" Hank wanted to know.

~000~

"Dear Boy, I called Leon but he was on a call so I left a message for him to come down here STAT!" Ducky informed Tony solicitously.

Tony nodded. "That's good, Ducky. Think I'm going to head off, like you suggested."

"You'll be missed." The ME told him sadly. Spying something out of the corner of his eye, he grinned. "Ah I do believe that our esteemed director got my message. Here he comes now."

Sure enough Leon Vance, the enigmatic and restrain director came flying down the stairs in an undignified haste.

As Tony picked up his backpack, Leon called out. "Wait DiNozzo, don't go. Now I'm no longer your boss, I can declare my undying love for you." Vance looked like he's just thrown up in his mouth. "I know you feel it too."

Tony stared at the director in total disbelief, deciding not to grace his statement with a reply. Instead he picked up the box with his stuff, preparing to walk out of NCIS for the last time. At that moment, Abby, Ellie, McGee, Jimmy, Fake-Ziva and the Queen of the Dead all spilled out of the elevator, yelling that Vance couldn't have him…he belonged to them. As they fought over him, each grabbing him and jostling him, tearing his shirt in the process, Tony exchanged a gobsmacked look with Ducky Mallard. Ducky looked like he thought he was having a senior moment and imagining all this craziness.

Finally, a familiar voice shouting at the hoard to unhand DiNozzo, which stemmed the rising tide of hysteria and Tony heaved a sigh of relief.

"Senior…Dad? What are you doing here?"

"Well Junior, I heard you're finally finishing up today. So finally you can come back home and we can be together forever just like…"

Suddenly the babble started up again making it impossible to think, until the familiar sound of a gunshot rang out in the bullpen and Anthony DiNozzo Junior collapsed to the ground -dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Ducky stepped in and officially and sorrowfully pronounced him dead. The crowd surrounding him stood there silently - deeply, deeply shocked.

"NOOOOOOOOOO" came the gut wrenching, soul destroyed wail. Racing over to Tony's still warm corpse Gregary Blags had tears streaming down his cheeks, the crowd parted for him in respect for his terrible anguish. No one realised he had such strong feelings for DiNozzo. He'd always been pretty disparaging, if not completely dismissive of the guy, but clearly it must have been an elaborate ruse to hide their true love for each other.

Reaching Tony's side, Blags was a mess. There was a mass of tears, drool and snot and aside from respect for his grief, people wanted to avoid gross bodily fluids, even if it was from God.

Blags was beside himself. Balancing on one leg he proceeded to kick the shit out of the body, cussing and wailing about being robbed of his final moments. As his rage reached it's crescendo and he started to foam at the mouth and speak in tongues, Hank and Hanne belatedly arrived at the fracas while everyone else stood around, frozen in horror.

Hank grabbed one arm and Hanne the other and dragged him away from the corpse. "Mate, not the face! You've ruined any close ups of his face in the casket at funeral, you tool."

"That wasn't supposed to be one of my 'moments', Gregary snarled.

"I know, but never miss an opportunity when it's presented." Hank reasoned. Weddings and funerals are grist for the mill for soaps"

Hanne rolled his eyes. "This is a police procedural NOT a soap opera, Hank"

"Are ya sure?" asked the pretty but aging EP. "Then what's with all the revenge plots?"

"That bastard ruined my moments!" Blags sobbed in rage, ignoring the EP.

"I thought you were done," Hanne asked a little stiffly. He wasn't happy that his plan to poach DiNozzo was now dead in the water. No pun intended.

"No we were going to have a FoNozzo Moment."

"Dude isn't Fornell in a coma?" Hank asked, confused.

"Flashback," Gregary explained.

"Plus we were going to do Frankozzo Moment"

"I thought Mike Franks was dead?" Hanne protested.

"Well duh! But the research shows that fans thought that they had great chemistry when he hit DiNozzo over the head and left him unconscious. And research showed some fans wanted a ghost ship. Plus, I also wanted to have a Jethro/Tony moment too. I can't believe the bastard robbed me of it."

"Hank and Hanne exchanged concerned looks. Blags was losing it!

Speaking calmingly, Hanne reassured him. "It's alright, Gregary. We got your Tibbs Moment. It's in the can."

"Not TIBBS. I meant Jethro the dog, asshole! Jethro was going to make the bestiality fetishists happy and now they never will be. I failed! I'm going to be pilloried in the press!" Blags started foaming at the mouth and recommenced yelling obscenities in several languages.

Jimmy Palmer approached him cautiously to administer a sedative that he'd found serendipitously in his pocket and swiftly injected it into Gregary Blags' vein. The deranged man collapsed into the waiting arms of two burly men in white coats that had miraculously appeared out of nowhere. They loaded him onto a gurney and carted him off.

"Where are they taking God?" Abby wanted to know.

"I believe he is going to be taking a nice rest cure at an exclusive retreat for the rich and famous. I believe his minders will diagnose 'exhaustion'," he explained wryly.

"OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG, OMG. What's it called, Ducky?"

"I understand it's called Losing the Plot, my dear!" Ducky responded with a devilish twinkle.

No, Ducky. I meant the name of the retreat."

Trying not to chuckle he replied, "So did I. And I believe their mantra is:

'God grant me the strength to accept that you can please some of the people all of the time, you can please all of the people some of the time, but you can't please all of the people all of the time.'

Watching beatifically as Blags was carted off, Ducky started singing a song from the musical, South Pacific, "Push him out, fly him out and send him on his way."

Hanne looked at Hank. "What made him do it, do you reckon?"

"Think it was when DiNozzo saw Senior and couldn't handle it."

Hanne rolled his eyes. "I meant what made Blags do it? He'd already decided that a DiNallard moment between Ducky and Tony would be too squick. So why did he decide to do the Senior/Junior Moment? That's just all kinds of wrong."

Hank stroked his chin as he thought about it. "Dunno. Said something about it being our answer to the Wincest Ship. Didn't make sense to me and I thought it was a terrible name for a boat. Not like the Shannon or Kelly or Diane…"

~000~

Several hours later in Autopsy:

Ducky sent everyone away, explaining that he wanted to do Anthony's autopsy by himself. After 15 years, he felt he owed him that much dignity, respect and discretion. Finally, after literally pushing Jimmy out the door and waiting a decent amount of time, he approached Tony's corpse.

"Well Anthony, in your inimitable fashion you refused to go out quietly, dear boy. Such a shame though."

"At least this way, all those crazy people will leave me alone, Ducky." Tony replied, sitting up and stretching, since lying completely still being dead was harder work than it sounded. Even for a very experience undercover agent like he was.

"Looks like they all fell for it. I must say, swapping out the bullets in McGee's gun for blanks - worked great." He complimented the ME.

"As was you slipping the sedative into Mr Palmer's lab coat. You're quite skilled at sleight of hand."

"The fake blood was inspired. And thanks for not really using the liver probe on me. You're one helluva actor, Dr Mallard."

"Thank-you, Anthony. Coming from you that means a great deal to me. Well, I don't think you need to worry about all your spurned paramours anymore, they believe you to be dead. What will you do now, dear boy?"

"Not sure, Ducky. Old plan's a bust since Tony DiNozzo's dead."

"I may have suggestion. An old crony of mine is looking for someone to head up his consultancy business, since he's been offered his own day-time talk show."

"What sort of consultancy, Ducky" Tony asked, curiously.

"Selection of juries for court cases. You're a wonderful profiler and investigator. I think it would be right up your alley." Ducky explained excitedly. "I'm sure we could create a new identity for the job which is in New York. We could still stay in touch."

Tony nodded. "Sounds great Ducky, but I already have another ID set up in case I needed to escape in a hurry. I just didn't think I'd be escaping from my cra-cra colleagues. I'll need to tweak it a bit, though."

"Excellent! I'll call him now. So who shall I say I'm recommending?"

Tony grinned evilly. "Hallo, my name is *Ted Bullpit, pleased to meet you," he introduced himself, extending his hand for a handshake.

"Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr Bullpit. I heard great things about you. Why don't we go to my place and celebrate your new job, Edward?"

Finis

*Ted Bullpit was a character in an Aussie sitcom in the 70's.

End Notes: Spoiler alert – season 13 finale

My apologies. I wanted to have this posted this morning BEFORE the finale screened in the US. That didn't happen because when I started doing a final clean-up I ended up with a whole new ending. But I resisted trying to find out what happened in the final episode until I'd finished the new ending. So first off, I haven't seen the finale and won't for a few months but I did check out social media… which has gone off. So I'm short on details except for the reason Tony leaves.

Have to say that I had a feeling that this ending was coming but I hoped I was going to be wrong. Really, really hoped. *sigh* But as CdP made it clear she wasn't returning and had burnt her bridges with TPTB recently, I was pretty sure that this was going to be the way they would try to placate the TIVA shippers, while not incensing the anti-TIVA shippers (holds up her hand proudly). I was pretty sure earlier in the year that Tony would discover that he had a kid, either with Ziva OR Jeanne. I was increasingly convinced that they would kill Ziva. Both of which apparently happened. Have to say, this sucks on so many levels.

Tony doesn't leave to head his own team, but to find his daughter, whose dead mother concealed her existence from her father for the last two+ years. Such an unforgivable, selfish thing to do to anyone, but to Tony? Unlike many people, I've always been a fan of Jeanne Benoit, and I thought they were good together, apart from the obvious elephant in the room. BUT I have to say that if it had been Jeanne that lied to Tony about having his kid and not telling him, as much as I've loved her character, I'd be calling her a bitch too. It is a horrible thing for anyone to do to him.

I'm no fan of Ziva and loathe TIVA with a passion, since I don't find anything remotely romantic about domestic violence, even when it is the woman who is abuser. But if I was a Ziva fan, I'd be feeling totally ripped off by this ending. It totally flies in the face of their fantasy of DiNozzo and David being star -crossed lovers since she was supposed to be off finding herself and seeking redemption for all the terrible things she'd done as an assassin. So then she deliberately robs the father of her child of the first precious years of her daughter's life? Could there be a greater sin? Methinks that TPTB have been spending too much time hanging out with the writers of Hawaii Five-0.

Well I'm still feeling gutted that they made Tony the victim again, instead of acknowledging that he should have been leading his own team a long time ago. What a soap opera ending to a glorious 13 seasons. No Competent Tony in sight! RIP Tony DiNozzo.

PS. Based on media articles, I believe that Bull has been given the go ahead for the US Fall season. I'm excited because I think that MW is a talented actor who hadn't been challenged in a long time. Seeing him appear on NCIS LA working with new people was awesome and he was so switched on. I think the new show will be interesting – I've studied witness testimony and behaviour which is fascinating. So I'm sure that jury behaviour and selection processes will be too and make for meaty drama.

I'm not that concerned about it being based on Dr Phil. Bones has little resemblance to Dr Temperance Brennan, or her creator Kathy Reichs, other than them being in the same profession. And for that matter – NCIS has little resemblance to the real life NCIS agency. Most of what goes on in the show would never happen in real life. I'm pretty sure that Bull will be loosely based on McGraw and his experience but it definitely won't be a biopic. Definitely can't wait!


End file.
